


Us, Hereafter

by dapperpepper



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Character growth haircut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Food, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Intimacy, Link and Zelda have A Time, Mentions of Death, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperpepper/pseuds/dapperpepper
Summary: Ravaged by the Calamity and left grief-stricken in the wake of destruction, villages rebuild and life begins anew. Now Zelda and Link must do the same.





	Us, Hereafter

**Author's Note:**

> Just as an addendum to the tags above; in this story, Zelda and Link struggle to cope with the aftermath of the Calamity together. Anxiety, death, disordered eating, depression and some sexual subjects are mentioned. On a lighter note, there is also food, haircuts and clothes, because I can't write about anything else. Thank you for reading!

_She's trying not to trip over herself in exhaustion, but he's holding her steady. In the wake of the Calamity's defeat, it is uncomfortably silent and they are the only souls for miles and miles. There is a large tree with a hole in its trunk in the forest ahead and he points to it, his lips forming words she cannot understand. Her ears are ringing._

_—_

She wakes on a bed of dusty, shriveled leaves that rustle beneath her legs and scratch at her ankles.

The second sensation she feels is warmth. It's nearly a minute before her sleep-addled brain realizes that they've shifted in the night (or _nights_) and her head is resting on his chest. Long calloused fingers are interwoven in her blonde hair that is, expectedly, full of leaves and unexpectedly, stems of baby's breath.

Zelda isn't sure if she is still asleep or somewhere in the middle — she has been in the middle for far too long and the odd quiet isn't helping. Any animals have long since fled, before Ganon had even taken form there. The golden glow of the half-risen sun cuts through the tree trunk's shadows where they lay inside, still. She remains on his chest, syncing her own deep breaths with his to find her bearings in this new reality. 

Zelda turns her head away from the trunk's entrance, away from the forest's trees and the sprawling green fields. Now she sees him at an angle, his full lips parted slightly and his upturned nose, every breath softly disturbing the dry bed of leaves beneath them. The gravity of what they've done hits her with little warning — it's over.

She isn't in the middle anymore and it overwhelms her senses. The way her ankles itch and his solid form beneath her, the fingers in her hair, the musk of dirt and pine. It has been so long since she has been able to _touch_. She moves her fingers to feel the sleek fabric of Link's torn and battered Champion's Tunic that she herself had embroidered over a century ago.

When Zelda dares to move, her limbs are deadened with exhaustion as if the rest of her body has not yet caught up with her mind and her eyes. It should worry her, she thinks, but she is content to rest right where she is for the time being. She lets the comforting weight sink deep into her bones and lighten her heart.

It feels like another one hundred years have passed before her quiet contemplation is broken by the sound of his stomach rumbling. She nearly laughs at the absurdity of it as it reminds her of their excursions from long ago and his penchant for cooking. Link, however, stirs very little and makes no attempt to fix the issue so Zelda decides to take matters in her own hands.

She finds the strength to untangle Link's fingers from her hair and slowly right herself as her head swims with the new position. Going back to sleep is all too tempting, but Zelda is not sure how long they have already slept. She finds her perception of time skewed and almost nonexistent; even the battle with the Calamity seems worlds away.

And if the goddesses have any mercy left in whatever ethereal bodies they inhabit, it will stay that way, she thinks.

Instead of standing, the shakiness in her limbs prompts Zelda to crawl to an abandoned leather sack a few feet away. As she does, strands of baby's breath tumble from her tangled mess of blonde hair and onto the leaves below. She glances at Link and finds them woven into his hair as well. She wonders who, or _what_, had put them there?

Pushing the thought aside to favor more pressing matters, she grabs the pack and rifles through its contents. This rewards her with a few pieces of flint and not much else, but the flint will start the fire she needs. Zelda abandons the pack on the ground and crawls to the opening of the tree, tattered edges of her white prayer gown dragging limply behind her.

The outside world steals her breath away. Early morning light casts pink and golden hues on the rolling fields, mists blurring the distance like the watercolor paintings she covered the walls of her study with as a young girl. Using the large tree for support, Zelda brings herself to stand on unsteady legs. She welcomes the crisp morning air into her lungs and lets it fill every empty space within her.

And then she sets off to forage... whatever she can find. The absence of wildlife ensures that meat is off the menu, but Zelda is in no mood to hunt regardless. Instead she finds large mushrooms with brown caps and even a few sprigs of herbs sprouting along the bases of the trees, of which she gathers a generous amount in her skirts. There is a lake nearby that she doesn't recognize and she approaches it to clean the dirt from the mushrooms.

Upon finishing, she brings the bounty back to the tree where Link has yet to move an inch. On the one hand, Zelda wishes he would wake for some company. On the other, there is a leaden anxiety that she feels when she leaves him behind — a fear that when she returns, he will be gone. As if she is still stuck in the in-between after all.

She rests the mushrooms and herbs on a map she finds in the leather pack (obviously made by Link, if the crude handwriting and drawings are any indication). She grabs two pieces of flint and a small knife and gets to work on creating a fire. Zelda had always taken great pride in being resourceful, advocating for a more hands-on approach wherever possible. She loved the long travels from village to village, hearing the concerns of the elders manning the inns and shops, getting her hands dirty to resolve problems. When they were no longer at each other's throats, Link was more than happy to teach her the skills he acquired on his assignments.

It's not long after the mushrooms have been rubbed with herbs and stuck clean-through over a small fire that Zelda finally hears the rustling of leaves. She peers into the tree and sees Link sitting up slowly, rubbing a fist into his tired eyes with leaves and baby's breath falling off of him in droves. He takes in his surroundings, glancing to the open pouch on the ground and its contents spread about. Then he sees her and the exhaustion he's fighting relents.

"Zelda," he says as he crawls out of the tree. His strawberry blond hair is a tremendous mess, much of it escaping his ponytail and falling around the tops of his shoulders.

She grins as he approaches her by the fire. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

Link opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out, like he doesn't know where to begin. Eventually he sighs and says, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Link. And you?"

His hands are trembling and she's not sure if its from fatigue or something else.

"... Tired," he laughs a little. "But otherwise fine, I think. Did you sleep well?"

"I must have. But your stomach is an excellent alarm clock," she says and he immediately buries his face in his hands. "I decided to explore a little and found these."

She nods toward the fire where the mushrooms are roasting. Link's hands leave his reddened face to run through his hair instead, a few strands of baby's breath slipping between his fingers. He looks at them curiously and then at her, as if she had something to do with it.

"It looks like the animals haven't returned yet. I wonder how long it will take? That was the only thing missing from this morning, the sound of birds," Zelda looks to the tops of the trees before making a grab for the remaining mushrooms.

Link begins to reach around her. "P-Please, let me do it. You've gotta be exhausted."

"No, let me. I want to," she says. "It feels nice to do something so... mundane. I've really missed this."

His fingers return to fidgeting with the tiny fallen flowers. He smiles despite his nerves and says quietly, "Me too."

They enjoy a comfortable silence before Zelda reaches for one of the mushroom skewers. She prods a mushroom lightly with her finger and deems it satisfactory before handing it to Link. She tests another and does the same, placing it into his free hand.

"Whoa, wait, don't give me all of them," he laughs. "What about you?"

Zelda pauses; she doesn't feel hungry. Or does she? Neither thirst nor hunger are sensations she remembers. Be it some remnant of "divine power" left over from her century-long stint as a human prison cell or simply not knowing what it's supposed to feel like, for the moment, she feels nothing.

"Don't fret over me, I've eaten already," she lies and then says in jest, "Do you know how long you were asleep?"

Something about her words makes Link worry his bottom lip, but he pushes it aside in favor of the food in his hands. Contrary to Zelda, he feels like he hasn't eaten in weeks. Zelda notices the Sheikah Slate attached to his hip and gestures for it.

"May I?"

Link unfastens it and hands it to her. Zelda's heart swells in excitement as she touches the screen and it ripples, revealing a map of the entire kingdom. There are hundreds of symbols she doesn't recognize scattered about the map marking points of interest. Her green eyes study the screen in earnest, captivated by the topographical changes and landmarks. There are new villages that she also doesn't recognize, like Lurelin and Tarrey Town. She wonders what is official and what Link has named for his own reference.

Her excitement quells when she sees how many villages now have "ruin" affixed to their name. Mabe Village Ruins, Castle Town Ruins, Tabantha Village Ruins... her breath hitches and she has to tear her eyes away from the map, instead focusing them on a corner of the screen displaying various statistics. She swallows the lump in her throat, turns the screen to Link and points to the bottom right corner.

"Is this the correct date?"

Link takes the slate from her hands and studies it, chewing on his remaining mushrooms. He responds with his mouth full, "... We slept for nearly three days."

"It certainly feels like it," Zelda says, absentmindedly brushing dust off of her ruined gown.

After a beat, Link finishes his breakfast. "Thank you, Zelda. That w— is that my map?"

Zelda sheepishly picks up the map from the ground to shake off the dirt and bits of herb before handing it to him. "Er... I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"It's fine," he says, although the mild irritation in his voice isn't lost on her. "This is the map I used before I found the towers in each region. I just keep it for sentimental value now more than anything else."

Oh, _now _she feels awful. In what lifetime would it have been appropriate to use his handcrafted memento as a napkin?

"I'm so sorry Link, honestly," she says. "It's a very nice map. Especially the, uh, drawings? I never knew you could draw."

They're not very good drawings, Link knows this, but he accepts the compliment anyway. "I didn't, before. But some time after I woke up I started keeping a journal and making maps as a way to... organize my thoughts, I guess. It was hard to learn to draw with my right hand."

"Aren't you right-handed?"

"Well, I write with my left and my right hand is my sword hand. But sometimes I smear the ink when I write left-handed, so I thought I could re-train myself to use my right."

Zelda blinks. She's not sure if she has simply never noticed this quirk, or if it's something that developed post-resurrection. She's eager to know more, to dive even further into the topic, but this probably isn't an appropriate time to subject him to a study.

"That's fascinating," the words tumble from her mouth before she can stop them. "Y-Your art, I mean. I used to paint, myself. I believe it's what ultimately led me to science; keeping record of my studies, painting them day after day as they changed, you know."

"I know," he says, a smile reaching his eyes. "I remember."

His words make her pause and her ears redden. A joy that she hasn't felt in so many years swells in her chest as she fights once again to keep her emotions in check; she's already lost count of how many times she has pinched her skin this morning. She can still feel the hug that they shared upon the Calamity's defeat, how it felt to be touched after a century of nothing, how the acrid air in her lungs was dispelled the moment he wrapped her tightly in his arms, the sparks on her skin. The feeling of his fingers in her hair, his warm tears on her shoulder.

Zelda forces herself to break eye contact. She swallows thickly and feels the fabric of her dress between her fingers. A bit hesitant, she glances at her ruined gown and changes the subject. "I can't wait to finally be rid of this."

Link's blue eyes flit over her form, as if noticing her disheveled state for the first time. "I have some spare clothes if you'd like something more comfortable. They might be a little big, though."

She knows they probably won't be. He's shared them with her before, in her past life. She wonders how much of their relationship he remembers, if any of it.

"I'll accept your offer, if you don't mind," Zelda begins to stand and inwardly curses her unsteady legs. "I'd rather not risk this thing falling to pieces in the middle of nowhere."

"That would be... bad," Link says eloquently.

He follows her back inside the tree trunk to where his pack lays. It's a decently-sized pouch, just large enough to carry the necessities. He pulls out two pairs of brown trousers and a well-worn blue tunic with darker blue embellishments decorating the sleeves.

"Try these. If these pants are too big, these are a hair smaller," Link hands her the tunic and both pairs of pants.

"Thank y—" she starts but he's already on his way out of the tree, so she begin the process of shedding her destroyed prayer gown.

Link has made himself scarce so she allows herself a moment of reprieve. She closes her eyes and invites the air to caress her bare skin and leave goosebumps in its wake. She wants nothing more than to be on the road and warmed by the sun – to feel _truly_ alive for the first time in a century. Zelda rubs her shoulders, sighs contentedly and begins to pull on the pants. The material is rough but plain and understated, just as she prefers. She slips the tunic over her head and leaves the lacing at the front undone.

Eventually Link returns donning only his cream undershirt and riding pants, hair combed back into his ponytail. He finds Zelda digging aggressively in the dirt with a large stick at the base of the tree and clears his throat. "Uh... am I interrupting something?"

Zelda stops and blows a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'm digging a grave for a... not-so-dear friend's burial."

Link's eyes grow impossibly larger. "... It's not mine, is it?"

"_No_," she says and resumes her digging. "Could you help me, please?"

Deciding against asking any more questions, Link disappears into the tree to pack away the Champion's Tunic and spare it from further ruin. He grabs the Master Sword and returns to Zelda, who is making little progress.

He stabs the sword into the grave.

Zelda jumps. "You can't use that!"

"Sure I can," he shrugs. "I'm using it right now."

She rolls her eyes and continues digging. Link follows suit; the sword cuts through the packed dirt at much quicker pace. Ten minutes pass and they have a modest-sized pit.

Zelda wipes the sweat from her brow, grabs what remains of the white gown and dumps it unceremoniously into the hole without a word. She promptly begins to pile the dirt back into the pit and on top of the dress as Link holds his tongue despite his growing number of questions.

When they've finished filling in the grave, Zelda sighs dramatically as she stands and looks to the sky. "_O, Sacred Three; today we gather before You on holy ground to remember our dearly departed. Lift her up, O Merciful Goddesses, and may her soul come to rest in Your arms for all eternity._"

Link bites his lip and tries not to laugh. He feels it would be somewhat inappropriate despite the blasphemous nature of the whole thing, but he can't help himself.

"Shall we continue?" Zelda dusts herself off and they return to the tree one last time.

She starts to file Link's belongings away as he drapes a Hylian shield and the Master Sword across his shoulders. He cringes as the baldric supporting the heavy equipment chafes through his thin undershirt.

"Is this really the only bag you brought with you to the castle?" Zelda asks. "Didn't you have some sort of... old enchanted thing that would let you hold everything?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to risk something happening to it in there. It's not like the Koroks were just giving them away. And I didn't want to be weighed down, so," he shrugs. "That was all I needed."

Zelda mulls his reasoning over as she stands and hands him the pouch. After Link secures it to his belt, he unfastens the Sheikah Slate from it and holds the tablet out to her. Words die on Zelda's tongue and she blinks in surprise at the offering. When she hesitates, Link gestures to her belt. She takes it from his hands gratefully.

Upon leaving the tree, he continues. "How did you even know I had that bag? I thought you said you couldn't see anything while you were..."

He trails off, not sure if he should broach the topic.

"At times I could see snippets of things. But it was more... like a dream. It wasn't always clear," says Zelda. "Like when you wake in the middle of the night and you're not sure if you're still asleep."

"Oh," Link cocks an eyebrow as his eyes scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of his horse. After a long journey, a grueling battle and three days separated, he fears she's finally gathered her wits and dumped him. "... Where is she?"

"Who?"

"Apple, my horse. She usually doesn't stray too far, but..."

Zelda grins. "'Apple?' At least your naming conventions haven't changed."

Link ignores the comment and yells for Apple instead. He whistles loudly, causing Zelda to jump. After a brief silence, Link says excitedly, "She's coming!"

"How can you t—" is all Zelda gets out before a sturdy horse with a chestnut coat and flaxen mane comes barreling towards them.

Link runs to meet her and immediately wraps his arms around her neck, nuzzling his face into her silky coat. The sight makes Zelda's chest tighten. She approaches the pair slowly, wary of spooking the horse. "She's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" he says fondly. "I found her wandering in the plains around Dueling Peaks. She put up a fight but I won her over eventually. Her full name is Apple Dumpling, by the way."

"Of course it is," Zelda says, not unkindly. She carefully reaches out to stroke the horse's velvet nose. When Apple pushes against her hand gently, she relaxes.

Link gives Apple a pat before offering a hand to Zelda. "You first."

She's fairly certain she remembers how to mount a horse, but her weakened muscles have only increased their protests. Link helps lift her upward and into the saddle, but she observes the trembling in his arms as he does so. After she is situated and their gear is fastened to the saddle, Link hoists himself up to sit in front of her. Their close proximity shouldn't make Zelda feel the odd way she does, given the position she found herself in upon waking this morning.

"I'm so glad we won't have to walk all the way to Hateno," Link says, the exhaustion evident in his voice. He pets the horse's neck. "I wish I had some apples for you, Apple."

"Hateno?" says Zelda.

"It shouldn't take more than two days to get there if we really commit to it," He turns a bit in the saddle to meet her eyes. "Is that okay?"

_It's more than okay_, she thinks. She's so eager to set foot in a village, to see the people and how they've not just grown, but _thrived_ in the wake of the Calamity's destruction. She must know that they are okay despite her failings — despite all that she and Link have been through.

And in the throes of excitement, the reality of their situation sets in. She wants to see them, but what if she isn't ready to be seen? She isn't ready to reclaim the throne. Is it even rightfully hers after one hundred years of absence? Will they know who she is and immediately send her back into the castle, the last place she wants to be? Or worse, openly reject her?

_What if they hate me?_

Suddenly her cheek is warm and she feels Link's hand barely resting there. Zelda's attention shifts back to the present, and all she sees is blue.

"Zelda," Link says, a bit frantic. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

She blinks to focus and runs a hand through her hair nervously. "I'm fine, it's fine."

"You don't look fine. You look like you're gonna pass out," Link says. "I don't want to leave and risk you falling off. We don't have to do this right now."

"No! No, I want to go. Honestly. I'm okay," Zelda manages a smile. "Just... nervous, I suppose."

He looks at her like he doesn't believe her. They've been awake not five hours and he can already see right through her. She can't tell if she hates it or not.

"Please," she smiles again and hopes that it is somehow reassuring. "I'm _desperate_ to remember what a bed feels like."

His eyes soften but she can tell he's not entirely convinced. Still, he relents. "Okay. But if you don't feel well, you need to tell me. Otherwise hold on as tight as you can."

She nods, wraps her arms around his middle and leans into the comforting warmth. The thinness of his shirt is equal parts welcome and mortifying, but Zelda is tired of thinking.

With a click of Link's tongue Apple begins to walk, slowly picking up speed as they head south toward a trail that forks. The movement nearly makes her motion sick but much to Zelda's relief, her body soon adjusts. The wind tousling her hair is soothing and she sits a little straighter.

"— And these ruins, here; I don't know what they were. I never got around to labelling them. But see the Dueling Peaks waaay off in the distance? Once we reach it, it's a few more miles until we reach a stable. It's basically the halfway point so we can stop there."

She's never heard him talk so much in her life.

Even once they had reconciled their differences, after she had apologized for treating him unfairly and evading him at every turn, and he had opened up to her about his own feelings of inadequacy, she had never seen him so... animated. She had noted the change in his accent this morning. One hundred years ago he spoke with a cadence similar to that of the Zora, and she had to spend countless nights convincing herself that she was not terribly charmed by it.

The musical Zora inflection is present, but it's mixed with something else that she can't place. It's imprecise; his words bleed into one another on occasion and the "R" sound is harder. It's quite different from her own manner of speaking, which still denotes her royal lineage. Zelda wonders just how much the dialects and accents have evolved over the course of one hundred years. Perhaps she is the odd one now.

Zelda is content to listen to his voice and the embellished tales of his travels for the entire duration of their trip. She interjects occasionally ("Which Rito was this?" and "Riju is _how_ old?") but his stories are doing an exceptional job of quelling her anxiety.

The stable they've chosen to stay in sits at the edge of a large plain. The path continues winding into the mountains and Link says that's where they too will go in the morning. He dismounts from the saddle and lands not-so-gracefully onto the ground before helping her do the same.

"Link!"

The stable owner shouts from his stall at the inn's entrance. Link leads Apple by the reins and they approach the dark-haired man with the outrageous woolen hat.

"Hey Tasseren," Link waves. "Two beds and boarding for Apple, please."

"Sure, sure," Tasseren disappears into the stall and produces two sets of blankets. "That'll be 55 for the three of ya."

"... Are you serious? It was 15 last time for just me! Don't I at least get some kind of group discount? Some kind of... loyalty—"

"Just how do you think an old man is supposed to stay in business in this economy, hm?"

Link grumbles a few choice words and pays the man. He lets the ranch hands tend to Apple and gives Zelda a set of blankets. Zelda observes a few travelers scattered about the inside of the inn, drinking ale at the small bar and writing in what she assumes are travelogues. The atmosphere is cozy and inviting and she's determined to relish every minute of their stay (after a nap or two).

"This guy," Link sets down his gear and blankets once they reach their beds and rifles through his pouch. "Right into my food money. It's a good thing we're almost to Hateno."

"You need to brush up on the art of haggling," Zelda interjects and flops down on her bed.

"Oh! Where were you when I was getting robbed, miss?"

"Scouting ahead for mushrooms, of course," she says and points in a vague direction. "Which are over there. Bon appétit."

Link laughs a little. "We need to get you something more than just mushrooms, don't you think?"

Splayed wildly over the pillow, Zelda's long hair falls into her eyes as she looks to him. She shakes her head. "Mm-mm. I'm too tired. Maybe in the morning."

"But..." he starts, finding the concept of not being hungry after a long trek unfathomable. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? That was a really long trip. If we're lucky one of the other travelers might share something with us."

She peers through her disheveled mop of hair and smiles. "I promise, Link. Go find dinner. I will be here."

He looks like he wants to say more, but instead Link sighs and says, "I'll see if I can stock up on a few things for the morning at least. Please tell Tasseren if you feel worse? He's a cranky old man but he should have a few potions if you need them."

Zelda nods in assurance and Link exits the inn. Once he leaves, Zelda sinks properly into the blankets, fatigue settling deep into her bones. She supposes they could've used another day of rest before attempting such a long journey, but as lovely as the open wild has been, Zelda is eager to see civilization.

Within the inn there is a gentle hum of evening activity and she falls into her old habit of eavesdropping. She used to love sneaking around the castle halls and listening to the guards and maids gossip about all sorts of things. Sometimes it would pertain to her (which she was not as fond of) but their stories would often weave tangled webs of relationships, distant family and odd characters roaming about the streets of Castle Town. These people would then be reborn as characters in her own short stories.

She falls into a deep, dreamless sleep listening to a woman tell another about her misfortune while traveling in Hebra.

When she awakens, it's nighttime and Link is sitting at the bar, conversing with a rugged brown-haired man who looks to be in his mid-twenties. They are both nursing a mug of something dark which Link sips and the other man takes large swigs of.

"What d'you make of the castle situation?" the man says.

"Hm?" Link says, barely audible, and takes a drink.

"That weird mist around it disappeared," the man elaborates. "Been there as long as I can remember and then... _Poof!_ It's just gone. What do you think it means?"

Link shrugs. "I don't know. I didn't even notice it was gone."

"What?" the other man laughs. "How could you not notice? It's all anyone's been talking about! People're pretty shaken up over it but I'm thinking about heading over there, myself."

Link's eyes widen at the statement but he retains his composure. "Why would you want to do that?"

"I dunno, no one's been in there for gods knows how long. Now that that... poison shit's gone, there's bound to be..." the man stops gesturing wildly and leans closer to Link, lowering his voice. "There's gotta be riches in there. Money and gold, you know."

"Sounds stupid and dangerous."

The man laughs and shakes his head before taking another drink of his ale. "Yeah. Fortunately I'm both stupid _and _dangerous."

Link rolls his eyes.

"Anyways, I'm obviously not stupid enough to go in there alone." The man says quietly, "So, how about you come with me?"

Link peers at the man from over his mug. "I don't think that would be a good idea." 

"Why not? Maybe you don't want riches or any of that, that's noble. But I think I could make it worth your while."

"No, thank you." Link sets his half-full mug on the bar's countertop, clearly finished.

The man's drunken jovial tone shifts. "Wanna repeat that? Kinda sounds like you were turning me down, but you should know that probably isn't gonna work out well for you."

Zelda gasps when she sees the man reach for him. Before she can come to his aid, Link already has the stunned man in a hold with his arms twisted behind his back.

"I said no." Link speaks lowly into the man's ear in warning.

"I-I got it, okay," the inebriated man stutters, eyes wide. Link glares at him for good measure before letting him go. Hearing the commotion, Tasseren arrives and kicks the man out of the inn.

Heart beating rapidly, Zelda pretends to be asleep before Link walks over to their beds. She hears him dig through his pack before sighing heavily and laying down onto his own bed.

She opens her eyes and sees him laying flat on his back, tapping on the Sheikah Slate, face unreadable. Link feels her eyes on him and he turns to look at her.

"Zelda?" he says quietly, setting the tablet down. "How are you? Are you feeling better?"

Zelda tries to quell the roiling nausea in her stomach. She tries to assure him that she's fine — tries to say _anything_ — but she is unable to form the words.

Link's brow creases at her distress and he sits up. "What's wrong?"

She can feel it, the hot pressure behind her eyes. Something overwhelming that she can't place has taken up residence in her chest — filled in the empty space where something else should be. It feels wrong. She doesn't want to cry, not here, but the incident with the man at the bar plays over and over in her head and she grinds her fists into her eyes. 

"No, no," she hears Link say as he leaves his bed and rushes to the empty space beside her. He takes her into his arms. "It's okay."

Hot tears flow freely down her cheeks and her breaths come in shudders. Between them, she says, "I'm so _tired_."

Link says nothing for a moment, feeling the full weight of her words. He hugs her close and whispers, "I know."

—

The first thing she hears is the sound of birds.

Zelda opens her eyes and is greeted by the mid-morning light streaming through the stall where Tasseren is absent. The inn is mostly empty, save for a few stragglers. Most of the travelers probably took their leave at sun-up, she thinks. When she blinks her eyes are slightly swollen. _Fantastic._

She starts to reposition herself and sees that Link is still beside her, sleeping. His eyes are also red and his shirt is terribly wrinkled from where her head had rested overnight. They are in dire need of new clothes, but they should reach Hateno by early evening. The thought brings with it a renewed vigor and Zelda is eager to leave after the previous night.

Link's eyes flutter open and he stretches all of his limbs at once, taking up most of the bed's free space.

"Good morning," Zelda says.

He covers his face with his hands to shield himself from the sun. "Good mfphhfh."

"Come on," Zelda pats his arm. "Today is Hateno day."

"How are you so awake right now?" Link replies, voice laden with sleep.

Zelda slowly slips off of the bed. She yawns and stretches her arms high above her head, wincing as her bones pop in response. There isn't much to prepare as they don't have much to begin with; she grabs the Sheikah Slate and slips it onto her belt.

Turning around, she sees that Link has burrowed so far beneath the covers that he's almost disappeared.

After dragging Link out of bed and washing up in the cold water of a nearby pond (with a shrine sitting in the middle that Zelda reluctantly tears herself away from), they are ready to disembark. Although there is still a lingering weariness Zelda finally feels well enough to lift herself into Apple's saddle herself. Link follows suit and their journey begins anew.

They follow the river through the plain and the Cliffs of Quince. Link talks less than he did during the first leg of their journey, but offers a story or two in between bites of apple. When they ride in silence Zelda's mind wanders back to the night before, and she offers up stories of her own in an attempt to drown out the memory.

Hours later, they reach Midla Woods. Zelda looks up at the canopy of leaves overhead as Apple weaves between the trees, bits of sunlight peaking through. A concerning buzzing sound arises.

"Do you hear that?" she says.

"There are lots of bees here," Link replies. "Kinda scary at first but I've harvested their honey before. If I had a proper way to store it I'd take some right now."

"Seriously? How?"

Link explains the harrowing process as they reach the end of the woods, arriving at Fort Hateno.

"Wow," Zelda says breathlessly upon reaching the ruins. "... There are so many of them."

The husks of the Guardians are scattered about and twisted within the stone structures, left undisturbed after their onslaught a century ago.

"Yeah," Link says. "A lot of them had parts that were still intact. I took those too."

"_What?_"

"Link! Hello!" a third voice chimes in.

Link steers Apple to face the voice and waves. "Hi, Augus."

"It's been awhile!" says Augus, a man with short dark hair sitting in the shade of a nearby tree. A small donkey grazes next to him with multiple packs on its back. "I was starting to think those bokoblins down there finally roasted you on a spit... Come to think of it, it's been a few days since I've seen them, too."

Link smiles. "That's good to hear. I'm sure that makes your job a hell of a lot easier."

"That it does," says Augus. "So what can I get you today?"

"Sorry, I'm a bit low on funds. But I'm sure whatever milk I have left at home has long expired by now so I'll be sure to flag you down later."

"You'd better! See you later, Link," Augus nods in Zelda's direction. "Link's friend."

Zelda waves as they make their way through Fort Hateno. She mulls over the fact that no one they've met so far appears to have any knowledge of who she is. They all know Link, of course, but how many of them know the extent of his story or what he has done? The anonymity is strangely comforting. Would it be possible for her to live the rest of her life as simply Zelda, with no connection to the royal line? To live without shouldering the expectations of an entire kingdom?

"... Wait, did you say 'home'?" Zelda asks as they enter the village.

"Maybe," Link says.

The village is small but bustling. Zelda marvels at the quaint houses with vegetable gardens in their yards, the smoke billowing from chimneys while villagers shop at the outdoor markets and children chase each other through the streets unattended. The village sprawls upward into the hills lined with spinning windmills.

"It's beautiful," Zelda says in awe.

"It is. There are a lot of hardworking people here," Link steers Apple onto a bridge to the right. "Some of the safest streets I've come across."

They cross the bridge and come to a stop at a small house nestled behind a group of oddly-shaped model homes. In the yard to the right, she spots a stable, a pond and a few apple trees.

Link climbs down from Apple and gives her an affectionate pat on the neck. He turns to Zelda and says with a modest shrug, "Welcome home."

"This is your home? Y-You bought this?" Zelda stares in disbelief at the little stone house. Sure enough, there is a sign in front of it with his name on it.

"Yep," he smiles and it reaches his eyes. "Though not without some hassle. I found Bolson and his crew trying to tear it down — wait 'til you meet them, they're... something — and they told me I could have it for half of the listing price if I brought them a bunch of supplies they needed to fix it up. I was chopping wood for days!"

"How in the world did you find the time?"

"Uh... I don't know. But I really needed a safe place to store my gear and supplies, so I took their offer as a sign, I guess," Link says as Zelda climbs out of the saddle. "It made sense. Having a place to return to after traveling for days on end really makes a difference."

The sun is beginning to set over the hills and Zelda marvels at the view. A minute passes before Link opens the door and motions for Zelda to enter. The inside of the house is warm and dimly lit from the setting sun; a wooden table sits in the middle and a small kitchenette sits along the wall, which is lined with countless weapon displays. Drying herbs are everywhere, from the kitchen countertops to the dining table.

Link brings their supplies in and dumps them inside the door, something to take care of later. He lights a number of candles until the main floor is well-lit and says, "Well... feel free to make yourself at home. I'm sorry it's so cluttered with stuff but I didn't have time to uh, clean."

Zelda's attention is captured by a small bookshelf hiding in a corner along the wall. The books are mostly cookbooks, home remedies and maps, but there are a few history books as well. She makes a note to herself to read them later.

"Here are some clothes. We can visit the market tomorrow so you can finally have your own, if you'd like," Link interrupts her train of thought and offers her a folded stack of clothing.

"Thank you," Zelda takes the stack and Link shows her the tiny washroom.

Once the door is shut Zelda disrobes, casting aside the dirty blue tunic and pants that she's certain have reached the end of their lifespan. She's dying to have a warm bath but the desire for sleep outweighs the effort necessary to get the bath running. She chooses a long, surprisingly soft sleep shirt and slips it over her head; it smells like him, an odd comfort.

When she reemerges, Link is wearing loose-fitting pants and a sleep shirt of his own.

"Your face has color again," Link says, smiling. "I knew you weren't feeling well before. Not that you looked bad! Just... not like yourself. But I think it's to be expected after... everything."

Zelda sees that her skin has also tanned after countless hours in the sunlight. She shares her late father's olive complexion that would often darken on their long excursions, unlike Link, who's skin freckled in the sun like his mother's. She wonders if he remembers her.

She had met his mother only once around the age of nine; Link's father had served in the royal guard for many years. Around the time Link was en route to becoming a squire, his family attended the castle's annual spring festival. The memory is surprisingly vivid, but given that it was her first time meeting Link as well, she shouldn't be surprised.

Zelda recalls a time during the festival when she and her father were weaving through an endless sea of guards, trainees and their proud families. They had conversed with those who were eager to speak with the king about their child's accomplishments. Many were friendly to Zelda, some were less so, as her own training had begun a year prior and was not proving fruitful. However, she had already mastered the art of maintaining eye contact and concealing her emotions from those that dared to speak of the subject to her directly. She took pride in the fact.

Her father had guided her to the back of the large ballroom where a tall, bearded member of the royal guard was holding a conversation with another. He had an arm wrapped fondly around the waist of a slight woman who barely reached his shoulder. Zelda had seen the man many times while he was on duty and knew he had a famous son — the one that had somehow obtained the sword that seals the darkness. He looked much less stoic with his wife at his side, discussing fishing of all things.

The woman had long auburn hair and a friendly face, nodding along with the conversation. She was the first to see them approach and she elbowed her husband in the ribs. As she curtsied the guard next to her bowed, acknowledging Zelda and her father's sudden presence.

_"Your Majesty, your Highness,"_ the tall knight had greeted them.

_"Sir Edan, Lady Anna,"_ King Rhoam nodded. _"So, how was the ceremony?"_

The woman, Anna, spoke first. _"Wonderful! It has been a minute since I've visited the castle grounds."_

_"Indeed it has,"_ the king replied. _"Still holding down the fort, I assume?"_

Anna laughed, a musical sound that rang in Zelda's ears. _"I rule with an iron fist, your Majesty."_

_"Aryll is still quite a handful. Link has become much more disciplined since he first became a page,"_ Edan chimed in. _"But I will still find the two of them chasing the poor cuccos if left alone for too long."_

The king laughed good-naturedly. _"I'm certain he will only grow with time. Link is very obedient within the castle walls. We've had no incidents since his initial arrival."_

_"Yes,"_ Edan grimaced. _"That is an improvement. He has come a long way. He has learned to turn the other cheek when faced with certain... opinions."_

_Bullies_, Zelda thought. She knew them well. She wasn't aware of the exact incident they were referring to, but she had heard through the grapevine tales of a scrawny blond boy bloodying the noses of Hyrule's finest.

_"Speaking of, where did they get off to?"_ Anna scanned the room for her children before spotting them chatting with another trainee a few feet away._ "Link, Aryll!"_

All three children looked to her and upon seeing the king, two of them approached the group. Zelda would have pinned them as twins, if not for Aryll's braided auburn hair. Both took heavily after their mother.

_"Ah, my darlings,"_ said Anna with a hint of sarcasm, patting Link's shoulders.

_"Your Majesty,"_ Link bowed slightly. _"Your Highness."_

_"Hello, Link. I must once again congratulate you on your advancement in the ranks,"_ said King Rhoam. _"If I may be honest, your placement as a page and a squire is more of a... formality, with your Goddess-given talents. While you still have much to learn, I am certain that your road from squiredom to knighthood will be considerably shorter. I have seen you practice; your work is nothing short of astounding."_

_"Thank you, your Majesty,"_ Link replied softly.

Zelda stared at the king, and then at the boy in front of her. She longed to hear such high praise from her father. Link didn't look astounding. From the stories and gossip she had heard, she was expecting... well, she wasn't sure what she was expecting, but certainly not that.

Anna smiled and gave Link a reassuring squeeze on his small shoulders, but Zelda could see something else in her blue eyes; worry, or sadness. Link's eyes mirrored his mother's.

It was a look Zelda was familiar with.

For a brief moment, she is lost in the memory. She again wonders if Link remembers his family and if he doesn't, if she will have to prepare for the day that he does.

"Zelda?"

His voice breaks her train of thought. "O-Oh! I'm sorry, the clothes you leant me before are a bit... well, let's just say they've seen better days."

Link laughs and takes them from her, kicking them off to the side. "No they haven't. It's fine. We'll visit Ventest tomorrow."

He motions for her to follow him up the stairs to the second floor loft. At the top there is a dresser, a bed and a writing desk. The walls are covered in pictures, both hand-drawn and what appear to have been taken by the Sheikah Slate.

"I only have the one bed, so it's yours," Link says. He fluffs the covers a little.

"I can't take your bed from you. I've done nothing but sleep the past few days and I only can imagine how much you've been looking forward to sleeping in it."

Link shrugs. "What host makes their guest sleep on the floor?"

"What guest makes their host sleep on the floor?"

Link's hands come to rest on his hips. "Why won't you let me be nice?"

"Because," Zelda says. "You _have_ been nice, almost to a fault. It's starting to scare me a little."

He looks at her curiously. "... Am I not usually nice?"

"Of _course_ you are. Here," Zelda sits on the mattress and gives it a pat. He takes a seat next to her. "We'll share."

She feels the weight of Link's blue glare affixed to her form as she lays down on one side of the bed. Not in the mood to argue (and she assumes he isn't either), she crawls under the covers and fixes him with a green glare of her own.

"I dunno," he says.

"Is this not a fair compromise?" she asks. "Is this somehow different than a hollowed-out tree or a bed at an inn?"

Link runs a hand through his hair. "Yes, kind of. This is— I mean... it's my bed? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Link, how can I be uncomfortable if I'm the one asking?"

How can she possibly make him understand without saying it outright, she wonders. Zelda feels her ears redden in embarrassment. She finds it difficult to put into words the state of being in limbo for a century with nothing but the howls of the Calamity and fleeting sparks of ancient magic to keep her company; feeling nothing for so long and then feeling _everything_. How it felt to be wrapped in his arms, anchoring her into this new world.

The odd look in her eyes causes Link to give in. He slowly burrows underneath the covers and sighs.

Zelda smiles although she's sure he can't see it in the dark. "See? This is no more intimate than a scratchy leaf bed."

"Don't use the word '_intimate_._'"_

"... I can tell you're on the edge of the bed. You're going to fall off. Stop being so dramatic!"

Link makes an indignant noise as he inches closer to the middle. Zelda turns on her side to face him and the moonlight streaming through the window offers a stark contrast to the shadows contouring his face.

After a moment, he asks quietly, "Are you okay with this?"

"_Yes_, Link, I've t—"

"No, I mean," he makes a vague sweeping gesture. "Being here, in Hateno. In this house. And not... you know."

_In the castle. Perched atop a ruined throne, giving empty orders to people who will never take you seriously._

Zelda's tongue turns to lead and she finds herself unable to respond.

"I'm sorry," Link says. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Is that where _you_ would rather be?"

"Me?" he says. "It's not up to me."

"What do you mean, 'it's not up to you?'" Zelda says. "I don't understand."

Link buries his face in his hands and contemplates suffocating himself with a pillow.

"No, tell me what you mean, please," Zelda presses. "Why does my decision determine the course of your life?"

"... Is that a trick question?" Link says in disbelief. "Did you think I was just gonna ditch you after all that we've been through?"

"W-Well, no. But I thought after all we've been through, that you deserved to make your own choices in regards to your own future."

"I _did_ make a choice," he says. "I-I want... to help. I know you don't _need_ me there anymore, but... I just want to be there to support your decision, if you choose to... to go back."

And then it hits her — he is afraid of losing her. She isn't sure if it's for the same reasons that she is afraid of losing him, but she understands. She assumed reclaiming his role as a royal knight would be the last thing Link would want after tasting true freedom and solitude. The thought of him giving up that freedom just to support her makes her stomach turn.

_This is all my fault. I don't know how I'll ever be able to forgive myself._ Her eyes begin to burn and she focuses on the moonlight in his hair splayed wildly on the pillow to distract herself.

"I knew we should've gone to Impa first," Link sighs.

"Link, you're overtired. I can tell. We need to sleep," Zelda says, forcing her voice to remain even. "We can talk about this later when... when we're ready."

He looks to her for a moment, apologetic, and eventually says, "Okay."

Zelda blinks away her tears, grabs his hand and turns onto her other side to face the wall. She relaxes when he takes the hint and pulls her into his arms. His heart thrums steadily against her back and lulls her into a deep sleep.

—

Sunlight pours through the window and she wakes alone.

There's panic, at first, when she realizes how much space she is taking up on the bed. And then there's the sound of steam hissing downstairs and Zelda remembers where she is. She slides out of bed and stretches, marveling at how _good_ she feels; it's the first sleep she's had post-Calamity that has left her feeling human again.

Zelda makes her way down the stairs and spots Link at the kitchenette, cooking a generous amount of what she assumes is breakfast.

"Good morning," she says, voice rising over the sound of the sizzling oil.

Link startles and turns around, gloved hand still holding a pan of eggs. "You're awake! Finally!"

Zelda rolls her eyes and takes a seat at the table. "I probably would've slept for a good twenty hours, if not for the Hateno breakfast goblin."

"I'm making this for you too, you know," he says, grabbing another pan and giving the pancakes a flip.

Zelda recalls that she has barely consumed anything upon waking. She wonders if he hasn't noticed, or if he is simply being nice about it — she assumes it's the former. This is irrelevant now, however.

Once he finishes there is a spread of eggs, pancakes, sausage, toast, butter and orange juice on the table. He sets an empty plate in front of her and she can only blink in surprise.

"Here you go," he unceremoniously hands her a fork.

"Goddesses," Zelda says. "Just how early were you awake this morning?"

Link laughs at the idea of waking early and takes a seat across from her. "I just cook fast."

He motions for her to dig in and Zelda reluctantly begins to pile a small sample of foods onto her plate. One egg, one sausage, one piece of toast. She looks to his plate and it's already half full but he refrains from eating. He looks at her, expectantly, and she looks down at her reflection in the egg yolk.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concerned. "Is that one bad? You can trade for one of mine."

"No, no!" Zelda says. "It looks great."

Link is hesitant for a moment, as if he's afraid to ask again. "Is something wrong?"

"Well..." Zelda begins. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I'm not very hungry... I haven't really eaten anything since we woke up. After the Calamity."

Link's eyes grow wide. "What? But that was days ago! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I felt fine!" she says. "And I _still_ feel fine. There are a lot of things I still need to relearn. Everything feels so foreign to me; I guess my body hasn't adjusted yet. I'm still pretty off-balance, for example."

Link rests his chin in one of his hands, looking contemplative. It makes Zelda uneasy.

"L-Look, it's okay, really. I'm sure everything will come back to me soon. I'm already feeling much better this morning," she says.

"Wait here," Link stands up from the table, chair scraping against the wooden floor. He starts to walk back to the kitchenette.

Zelda sighs. "Your breakfast is gonna get cold."

He returns, grabs his plate and takes it with him to the kitchen.

Ten minutes in, there is a sweet scent in the air that piques Zelda's interest. It stirs a vague memory within her that she can't quite place. Eventually Link returns to the table with his hands behind his back.

"Try this instead." He sets different plate in front of her.

On the plate is a small slice of cake, topped with whipped frosting and slices of strawberries. She grabs her fork and uses it to take a small experimental bite; her eyes light up instantly in recognition.

"It's fruit cake!" she says around the light, spongy texture.

"It is!"

"This is amazing! How did you know?" she asks and takes another small bite.

He grins. "It's noted in the castle cookbook. Which I pilfered, by the way. It's on the shelf over there."

"Amazing," she says again through another mouthful. She lets the sweet whipped topping sit on her tongue, relishing the taste.

Once they are both finished, Link begins the process of running a warm bath. Zelda finds it difficult to mask her excitement. She once thought nothing would compare to deep, long-awaited rest in a warm bed, but the warm water soothing her aching joints and muscles is nothing short of heavenly. There are a number of richly-scented bath oils lining the side of the tub with labels written in Gerudo (she could read Gerudo well enough in her past life, but her skills are quite rusty). She chooses one that smells of cedarwood and warm safflina and carefully pours it into the water.

She tries not to overstay her welcome as she knows Link is all too eager to have a bath of his own. After a generous fifteen minutes she tears herself away from the tempting waters. There is a small, chipped mirror propped up on a desk where her towel and another set of Link's clothes awaits. It's the first time she sees herself clearly in a century, and not as a sad reflection in her breakfast.

She is miraculously unchanged. Her skin is warmly tanned and her hair bleached from the sun. The long locks hang like a damp curtain all the way down to her waist — the same hair she had once taken so much pride in, that the handmaidens took delight in braiding into elaborate and ornate styles every morning.

Zelda tries to run her fingers through a few wet strands and it tangles.

"Link, I need you do to me a huge favor," she says, emerging from the washroom in a fresh, white linen tunic and black pants.

Link looks up from the plate he's scrubbing.

"Don't ask questions, just trust me." she says. "You cut your own hair, right?"

He's afraid to answer. "Yes...?"

"Perfect! I need you to cut mine."

The plate and washrag drop onto the counter with a loud clang. "Zelda, I can't cut your hair!"

"Of course you can! Now grab a razor, quickly, before it dries."

"You want your hair to look like this?" Link grabs a fistful of his own uneven strawberry blond locks.

Zelda nods and points to the washroom, making her way over to the mirror. She hears him mumble a curse before he joins her, Master Sword in hand.

Zelda gives him a look. "Really?"

"Yes, really." He stands behind her as she fluffs out her hair, making sure no strands are tucked away in her shirt. "Goddesses, it's so long. Are you sure y—"

"Just do it, Link."

He swallows and carefully gathers sections of hair into his hands, experimenting with the length. "How short are we talking?"

Zelda holds up her hand, palm down, for reference. "Here, about to my shoulders. Short but not too short."

Link takes a deep breath through his nose, inhaling in the scent of cedarwood as he gets his bearings. He grabs a small chunk of hair and gives it an experimental slice with the sharp sword. His eyes follow the golden strands as they fall to the floor.

When Zelda makes no objections, he continues.

Soon her hair rests just below her shoulders. Link runs a hand through the hair and fluffs it, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. He... likes it — no, _loves_ it. But he holds his tongue in case she feels differently.

"We're getting somewhere. I think we can go shorter," Zelda says, grinning mischievously. She glances at Link in the mirror, who has paled. "Yes, definitely shorter. To... here."

Her hand comes to rest two inches below her ears. Link knows it's futile to object and the hard part is already over, so he resumes cutting.

"Done," he says a few minutes later, propping the sword against the tub.

Zelda touches the strands, looking closely at herself in the mirror. She looks at her profile, right and left, and smiles as her hair bounces.

"It's perfect. I feel so _light_."

Relieved, Link looks at her reflection in the mirror and smiles. The shorter style suits her; framing her face, the color brings out the small flecks of gold in her eyes.

"It's so even," Zelda marvels, tucking the hair on one side behind her ear. "You have a hidden talent. Although, that doesn't explain why yours is so scraggly."

He scowls. "You try cutting your own hair with a sword next time."

Link prepares his own bath while Zelda steals the mirror from the washroom to perform a series of hair experiments. Luckily, she finds a few hair ties laying on top of his dresser in the loft.

Twenty minutes later Link emerges from the washroom donning only a pair of brown trousers and a towel on his head. He sees Zelda sitting at the table, hunched in front of the mirror propped up by a bowl of fruit. Upon his return, she stands.

"Well?" Zelda gestures proudly to her new hairstyle, a neater clone of his usual ponytail.

Link bites his lip in a failed attempt to hide his amusement and grabs a dark blue tunic draped over the back of a chair. "Very funny."

Considering it a success, Zelda removes the hair tie and opts to wear her hair down for the day. Link steals the tie and secures his own hair with it. He walks over to a hidden nook underneath the stairs, opens a chest and removes a leather pouch.

"It's not much, but I think we can get some decent clothes for you and some supplies," Link says, cringing a little. "I usually have more saved than this but I went a little crazy before traveling to the castle."

Zelda stands near the door, slipping on a pair of boots that are a few sizes too big. "If I recall, you said you didn't take much with you."

"I didn't. It was before... how can I say this?" Link runs a hand through his damp hair. "I didn't exactly have the highest of expectations regarding the outcome of that battle. So I might have... indulged a little before I left."

Zelda stops lacing her boots and looks at him, mouth slightly agape.

"I-It's not like I'm proud of it, I just thought, you know," Link stutters at her reaction. "I only had two Noble Pursuits and that was enough."

"I don't care about that," Zelda says. "I care that you thought you wouldn't make it."

"Oh," he fidgets awkwardly. "Sorry."

Zelda isn't sure how to respond. She finishes tying her laces and stands. "Don't apologize, it's just... it caught me off guard, that's all."

"J-Just forget about it. None of that stuff even matters anymore, right? What matters now is your wardrobe and my lack of cane sugar. I can't make any more fruit cake for you if I don't have it," Link grabs her hand gently and opens the front door. "Let's fix that, okay?"

Zelda smiles half-heartedly and lets him lead her outside. She takes a deep breath of the crisp afternoon air to calm her nerves as Link walks to the small stable where Apple grazes lazily. He checks her supply of hay, gives her an apple and hugs her neck. "Good girl."

He returns to Zelda and they cross the small bridge into the heart of the small village. Link gives her a tour amidst the activity, pointing out various shops and what each of them carry. A few of the villagers wave to them as they walk by.

It's not long before a child's voice loudly calls out to Link, interrupting his tour. As they turn around a little girl no older than six is barreling up the hill in an attempt to catch up with them.

"Link! Hi!" she says upon reaching them.

"Hi, Aster!" Link says.

Aster takes a moment to catch her breath and makes a show of wiping her forehead. "Whew, it's hot today. So, what are you doing? Who's that?"

The little girl points to Zelda and Link starts, "Aster, this is my friend Z—"

"Clara," Zelda interjects.

"C-Clara. My friend Clara. Yep."

"Ohhh," Aster says, looking up at Zelda with big brown eyes. "You're pretty, Clara! Do you like my dress? My dad had to sew up this part, see? I ripped it on those rocks over there, but it wasn't my fault!"

"Wow," says Zelda. "Such a pretty pink dress! Your father did a wonderful job of fixing it."

"Yeah, he sews really good!"

"Okay, Aster. We're kind of busy," says Link. "Clara will play with you the next time you visit, okay? Why don't you go bother Bolson?"

"O-kay," Aster says, slightly disappointed, before running back down the hill.

Zelda smiles. "I like her."

"She's a handful. She really likes you, _Clara._"

They resume their walk and make their way to Ventest Clothing Boutique. Zelda says quietly, "I don't want them to know who I am yet — not before I've figured everything out. Besides, I think I might actually enjoy living here and I don't want my so-called 'title' to interfere with that."

"Really?" Link says, hopeful.

"Link! Wait!"

They turn around once again to see another child, a boy just a few years older than Aster, running towards them.

"Great Goddesses," Link mumbles and rolls his eyes. "Teebo, what are you doing? I thought you were supposed to be helping your mom with the cuccos on the weekends!"

"I did!" Teebo says, catching his breath. He pushes his too-large glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But I'm done! I want to go exploring now. Can you take me?"

"Not right now," Link says. "We have some stuff we need to take care of. Maybe later, okay?"

"That's not fair, you're taking her exploring!"

"We're not exploring, Teebo! We're shopping, see?" Link points to the store's sign hanging above them. "Ew, gross, you hate shopping. Why don't you go find Bolson make him take you exploring?"

"O-kay. Bye, Link!" says Teebo before waving and running back down the hill.

"You have such a way with children," says Zelda.

"Quick, before more show up," Link opens the door and ushers Zelda inside the shop.

Like much of Hateno itself, the inside of Ventest is inviting and cozy. Hanging along the wooden walls are tunics and blouses with varying designs and shelves below them stocked with pants and long skirts. Link and Zelda venture toward them.

Link picks up a pair of pants and unfolds them. "I have a pair of these; they're made of really sturdy material. But these," he picks up another pair, "are what I'm wearing right now. They're really comfy."

Zelda studies the two before they move on to the tops.

"Is there something I can help you with?" A young woman approaches them shyly.

"Sophie, this is Clara," Link introduces her. Sophie smiles and nods.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sophie," says Zelda. "I'm actually looking for a few items to replace my current wardrobe. You see, my family owns an estate on a far off island to the east. We were returning to Hyrule, there was a storm and... let's just say our ship did not make it through unscathed. All of our belongings were lost at sea."

"O-Oh my, how awful," Sophie's eyes grow wide. "I'm so sorry, Clara."

"Thank you. It was very difficult," Zelda sighs and ignores Link's sidelong glance. "We can't replace our photos, our precious mementos or my father's journals, but at least I am able to replace my clothing. And what beautiful clothing it is."

"Uh, thank you?" Sophie clears her throat. "Some of these items are handmade by me, and some are imported from all over the kingdom. Those pants you are holding are my design. Many of the villagers here enjoy farming and gardening, so they were made for hard labor."

Sophie shows Zelda around the store, discussing sizes, pricing and where each item was made. Eventually she leaves with two pairs of pants, one skirt, two tunics, a pair of brown boots and a cream-colored blouse with pink floral embroidery.

"You enjoyed that too much, Madame Clara of a Far Off Estate to the East," Link says after they exit the store. "I thought you were trying to blend in."

"When did I say that I wanted to 'blend in?'"

They reach their next destination, the outdoor market, which lines the main pathway with fruits, vegetables, trinkets and other handmade goods. Link makes a beeline for the cane sugar but is quickly distracted by a platter of samples.

"Here," he says, dropping a green appetizer of some sort into Zelda's palm.

"Link—" Zelda begins, but he's already off to another booth. She sighs and nibbles on her appetizer.

Soon Link ends up with more than just cane sugar. He returns to Zelda, who is perusing a table full of small wood carvings.

"Well, we should be stocked for awhile now. I have sugar, some honey, rice, eggs... I have some herbal tea in here somewhere..." says Link, looking into the large bags in his arms.

"Yes, you've funded all of the farmers in the village, it seems," says Zelda as they begin the journey back to Link's house.

"The heart wants what it wants," he says. "Or the stomach, which is currently empty. My first mistake."

"I have a hard time believing that it's empty after this morning, but I'll take your word for it."

Shortly after crossing the bridge, they are approached by a middle-aged man with a gray beard and a shirt with a rather low-cut collar. Zelda tries to be polite and not stare at the man's toned chest, but it is uncomfortably at eye-level.

"Link, was it you who sent those rugrats after me while I was enjoying this fine, well-deserved day off?" he says irritably, hands on his hips. "Don't bother answering- I already know."

"Sorry, Bolson," Link says. "... I'm not really, but if it makes you feel better."

"_No_. Smart ass," says Bolson. "So, when were you planning to introduce me to the young lady here?"

"Never. But now that you're here, Bolson, this is Clara. Clara, this is Bolson."

"Charmed," Bolson gives a short bow and stage whispers, "Get out while you still can, honey. This one wouldn't know romance if it slapped his own ass."

"Good night, Bolson!" Link yells from his front door as he attempts to pry it open as fast as possible while juggling two grocery bags.

Zelda smiles. "It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Bolson."

"Likewise, Ms. Clara," says Bolson, turning to leave.

Zelda waves and sets off to help Link open the door before he drops his bags. Once inside, Link sets them on the table and glances at the clothes in Zelda's arms. "I'll empty one of my drawers upstairs so you can keep your clothes in there for now. At least until we can have your own dresser made."

They walk to the loft and Link opens the top drawer, removes his clothes and begins to squish them carelessly into one of the already-full bottom drawers. Zelda silently watches as he fills the empty space with her clothes, replacing his own. It stirs something uncomfortable within her.

"Thank you," she says.

Link pauses at the odd tone of voice but replies, "You're welcome."

"No, really. Thank you. You have been... unbelievably generous these last few days," she laughs a little. "I'm honestly not sure I understand. It's certainly more help than I deserve."

Link looks at her oddly. "What? Zelda, what are you talking about?"

She goes silent. She didn't mean for the words to come out so blunt; it was meant in jest. Or was it? The the emptiness in her chest and feelings of self-loathing have returned. _Why do I have to open my mouth_, she thinks. _Things are finally okay again and here I am, ruining it._

"You deserve all the help in the world," Link continues when she doesn't respond. "So much more than I can give you. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because," Zelda says quietly. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to repay you."

He blinks. "Do you think I'm doing this expecting to get something out of it?"

"O-Of course not," her fingernails dig painfully into her palms. "But it just isn't fair to you."

"But I'm not... This isn't—" he says, frustrated. "What's really bothering you? You were fine a minute ago."

Zelda feels her ears redden. "While I was praying every day to some faceless deity, you were doing everything you could to make sure we were prepared. You were always the one who got things done, who could make things happen. I was just terrible. I ruined everything. And now here I am again, being broken and useless and leaving you to pick up the pieces."

"Zelda," Link stands and rests his hands gently on her shoulders. "That's not true at all. We've talked about this, none of that was your fault."

"Yes, I tell myself that every day," she says, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "But I haven't been able to convince myself of it."

For a moment, Link is at a loss for words. He shakes his head. "I've never seen someone try so hard and care so much about her people the way you do. You inspire me, Zelda. I don't think I could've done half of what I did if it weren't for you."

Tears run down her cheeks for what feels like the hundredth time since she's awoken. His words should bring her comfort but she knows she does not deserve them. It's mortifying, this lack of control that she feels — not that she had ever felt truly in control, with her father's and the court's cruel words hanging over her head, threatening to fall and swiftly crush her. But she had learned to deal with it. It became a fuel for her fire, the desire to prove them wrong and to prove that she was worth something.

But that's not what happened. They were right. She hears them in her sleep now, the cries of old ghosts unearthing her past so that she may relive it over and over again to pay for what she has done to them. For what she didn't do.

"You don't understand, Link," she cries. "So many lives have been lost. Our friends... If we had just been anywhere else when the Calamity struck, if I had just grown a spine and stood up to my father and stopped going on those damned pilgrimages and studied the Sheikah technology like I wanted, if I didn't treat you so poorly, maybe I could have found a way. But I was a fool- I still am. I've learned nothing."

"There's nothing you could've done! None of us were prepared! I don't know how you got it stuck in your head that I had everything figured out, because that is so far away from the truth," he says. "You _know_ that."

"Link, you don't understand..."

She has to look away from his eyes, which are shining with tears. He says, "Stop saying I don't understand. I _do_ understand; I do. I was_ killed_, Zelda. And on top of everything else, you were the one that had to fix all of my stupid mistakes. I failed miserably. Everyone expected me to just swoop in and do what some bullshit prophecy said, and I couldn't do it. Now they're all dead as a result. And while we're being honest, sometimes I wish I had stayed that way."

"Don't say that," she covers her ears. "Don't _ever_ say that!"

He tries to calm his breathing and keep the panic at bay. It's too much for just the two of them. He is still angry; he resents the Goddesses for choosing some scrawny farm boy, resents the townsfolk for putting too much faith in him. But despite that anger, he knows that they were just afraid. They were afraid for their families, for their children. Like him, they were afraid disaster would strike at any moment and everything they had worked so hard for would be gone. They grasped for any shred of hope they could hold on to, and Link and Zelda were that hope. He doesn't know what he would have done in their place.

Link knows he can't take back what has been said, so he says nothing. He angrily wipes away the tears from his ruddy cheeks, quickly passes by Zelda and walks down the stairs. Zelda tightly shuts her eyes and hears the front door open and shut. The sound rings in her ears.

She doesn't want to be alone. She feels the walls closing in around her and all she can think to do is crawl into bed and hide underneath the covers. She cries for what feels like hours, until her eyes are raw and her breath no longer comes in gasps. It leaves her with a headache and she keeps her eyes shut until a merciful sleep comes to her.

She dreams not of ghosts, but of the two of them. Of a time when they were hundreds of miles away from the castle and its incessant gossip — away from her father's eyes, hiding in the wild forests of Faron, somewhere between the outskirts of Dreya Village and Lake Hylia.

_She kisses him because he would never do it first. He is always too gentle with her. It's his job, she supposes, but she can hold her own well enough. It has been nearly six months since her first encounter with the Yiga and she had started taking her archery more seriously. It gives her some peace of mind and emboldens her spirit._

_They had never confessed to each other. It was a mutual understanding between the two of them that their hearts had blindly followed. She lightly presses her lips to his, testing the waters before trying again. She feels his heart fluttering nervously in his chest and she lets her hand come to rest softly on his jaw, her thumb on his cheekbone. When her lips press further his do as well, and she grins at the response._

_Her body thrumming with excitement, she allows herself to open her eyes for a brief moment to see him. Their proximity quickens her pulse as she loses herself in his details, the gentle slope of his nose, the long, dark blond eyelashes resting against the freckles on his cheekbones. That someone as calm and gentle as he is could wield so much power so efficiently seemed almost impossible; he intrigues her endlessly._

_She pulls away to catch her breath and it feels like an eternity as she stares at his reddened ears. She laughs, "Don't be embarrassed."_

_His head leans back against the tree with a dull thunk as his tongue sweeps quickly over his lips. "You don't have to point it out."_

_Taking the opportunity, Zelda laughs again and goes in for another kiss, catching him off guard. She soon feels his fingers weave into her hair as her own hand moves to his stomach with the intent of sneaking playfully underneath his shirt. When her plan is foiled, she remembers that they are supposed to be scouting and there are about six layers of clothing between them._

_The process of removing the protective layers is as awkward as she anticipates, but when his clumsy fingers attempt to remove her bodice and her own fingers come to rest in the shallow dips of his warm skin, she quickly forgives. And when she feels the cool air kiss the bare skin of her breasts and he follows, she forgets._

When she wakes, she is still buried underneath the covers. She can see the golden hues of twilight through them, cast by the window above. Her head and her heart still ache. The covers that were once comforting are now stifling and she slowly removes them.

The house is quiet and still. Zelda sits on the bed and blinks away the sleep, rubbing at her red eyes. From her new position she can see a faint orange glow coming from the bottom floor and she carefully stands to investigate. Link is sitting on the floor wrapped in a large comforter in front of the lit fireplace. Taking a steadying breath through her nose, Zelda grabs a blanket from the bed, wraps it around her shoulders and walks down the stairs.

In the dim lighting she sees a number of baked goods scattered about the dining table and counter. She chews on her bottom lip and continues shuffling to where Link sits, taking a seat beside him wordlessly. After a moment he glances to her, eyes rimmed in red.

"I'm sorry," he says so quietly she almost doesn't hear. "I didn't mean what I said."

Zelda stares at the fire as if it will help her form a coherent sentence.

"I was frustrated," Link continues. "It's still hard to talk about things."

Zelda says, "I know."

Link doesn't respond but instead grabs a half-full mug sitting on the floor at his side and pushes it to her. Zelda peers into it curiously and sees what she assumes is herbal tea. She accepts the peace offering and takes a sip, relishing in the warmth it brings.

"What a mess," Link says flatly.

Zelda scoffs into the mug. "It will take some time."

"You know you can talk to me, right? You don't need to bottle it up," Link says, looking to her. "I hate seeing you like that."

"It goes both ways," Zelda says. "You throw about the topic of death so casually, it... unnerves me. But I want to understand."

Link swallows before continuing. "I know things are... different, that I'm probably a completely different person from the one you knew before. Maybe you preferred him, I don't know. But I'll try to do better."

Zelda shakes her head. "No. You are you. Every day that goes by that we spend together, I love learning more and more about you. But your spirit, it never changed."

Link stares into the firelight. When he doesn't respond, Zelda slides closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her with his comforter and pulls her close. They sit in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Link mumbles, "You want some fruit cake?"

"You made more?"

"Among other things."

The both stand and Link walks to the kitchenette. When he returns, there is a whole fruit cake in his hands and he sets it on the table.

"At least you have a healthy coping mechanism," Zelda says, helping herself to a slice.

"Maybe if it wasn't pie," Link gestures to the five pies scattered about various surfaces. "On the plus side, we'll be having it for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a month."

"Have you considered selling them?" Zelda says around a mouthful of fruit cake. Link raises an eyebrow. "Maybe that can be your new role in this life. Madame Clara of a Far Off Estate to the East and her dashing baker boy, lone survivors of the tragic Shipwreck of Eventide."

"Promise me you'll _never_ go to Eventide," he says seriously, but smiles a little despite himself.

"Is there a story behind this?"

Link sighs, grabs a pie and takes a seat across from her. "Okay. So this story begins, as so many of them do, with me waking up naked in the middle of nowhere."

"Hm, do go on."

—

Epilogue

—

Link sends a letter to Paya assuring her they are safe, that the Calamity has indeed been eradicated and that they will tell her all about it when they arrive. A week later, they decide that Impa has waited long enough for their return.

Zelda and Impa's reunion is heartfelt and awash with old memories over many cups of strong tea; Paya fixes a room for them and they stay the night. Zelda stays up late conversing with Impa, seeking guidance for the road ahead. She knows Impa wants her to reclaim the throne, but it is not what Zelda wants. There is talk of duty and destiny, which Zelda firmly rejects.

_"My dear girl. More than anything, I want you to follow your heart. By the Goddesses, you have sacrificed endlessly and you deserve a reprieve,"_ Impa says. _"But you must be prepared for whatever comes your way. Your story is not yet finished."_

Zelda heeds Impa's words as she and Link take the time to visit with Prince Sidon, Lady Riju, Teba and Yunobo. All of them know who she is and, much to her relief, greet her with a warm reception. But it is getting more and more difficult to hide her identity from others. After the initial excitement of meeting has waned, they each question her plans for the future. And she tells them — she will resume her studies, write countless books about her discoveries and Link will bake pies.

They enjoy nearly a full year of domesticity in Hateno following their travels. She still goes by Clara there and when the children refer to them as a couple, neither objects. Zelda isn't sure what they are; perhaps something that there is not yet a word for. Link has never questioned it, so she says nothing and simply chooses to relish in their quiet life together.

When they receive word from Prince Sidon that Vah Ruta has ceased functioning, Zelda recalls Impa's words from a year ago.

If she cannot outrun her fate, then she will take what she is given and make it her own.

She slips her hand into his and knows that she isn't alone anymore, and that makes all the difference.


End file.
